Текст книги "Darkest distiny"

Автор книги: Pepper winters

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Chapter Six

THE WOMEN DISAPPEARING INTO MY HOME below brought promises of death, sex, and more noise than I could cope with.

Yet another group.

Yet another attempt to make me breed.

I’d lost track of how many they’d sent here over the past two decades. How many I’d killed. How many hopefuls had tried to sneak into my bed.

It was a pity—for those imprisoning me—that they were slowly running out of women who were eager to rent out their wombs. Despite their careful screening to find me a lover, assassins crept through the cracks.

More and more little murderesses came to kill me, until each day became a matter of who could kill who first.

A smirk curled my lips as one of the women broke from the pack and bolted.

The wind was stronger on the roof of my palace.

No one could see me watching them.

I was like the God of Death himself—making notes of which ones I’d end first.

But that one?

The girl with long black hair and dressed like a penniless teenager seemed...different.

“Either she’s pathetically stupid or impressively smart.” The breeze snatched my whisper, shredding it into pieces so no one would hear.

For years on end, I had no one to talk to but myself. They gave me books and pre-approved entertainment, but human companionship wasn’t allowed.

Not unless I got them pregnant.

And even if I did, they’d be whisked away to have my bastard child, condemning my offspring to a fate worse than the hell I currently lived.

I would die before that ever happened.

As the girl fled across the gardens, arrowing toward the wall that she’d never be able to scale, I turned around.

I’d seen enough.

She was just another mouse caught in their trap.

Another morsel I had no intention of enjoying.

My black coat billowed around me.

A chill bit into my skin.

And as I descended the tower to the ballroom, I sighed.

I felt ancient and weary, burning alive with hate and revenge.

Yet now my home was infested with rats, and the games were about to begin.

Chapter Seven

“KEEP IT TOGETHER. YOU’VE GOT THIS. See, you’re fine.”

Giving myself a pep talk, I ran straight for the wall barricading us in this nightmare. The broken glass at the top twinkled and that nasty wire said it was probably electrified but I had to try.

Pressing myself against the wall, I fumbled with my backpack and yanked out my cell phone. Looking around furtively, I turned it on and waited with a pounding skull as it booted up, whirred to life, and...no signal.

Of course.

Holding it aloft like an idiot, I walked a few metres, begging the bars to glow with reception.

And nothing.

Fine.

I’d never relied on that stupid device anyway. And my bodyguard, Dillon, had enough experience tracking me down without it. How many times had he found me in some obscure place in the rice paddies of Ubud or on a river cruise through Europe? I mean, I wasn’t exactly incognito with using my credit card, but still...he would find me.

Eventually.

Shoving my phone back into my rucksack, I slung it onto my shoulders and eyed the wall.

I’d already yanked on the gate and found, just as I suspected, it was locked.

I staggered a little as my heart skipped a few beats, driving me closer to burnout.

I either needed to be far, far away from this place or to find a bed where I could rest because I was swiftly running out of time.

Dashing to one of the baby oak trees, I launched myself at it and managed to grab the closest branch. Scrambling in my ridiculous flip-flops and scratching my thighs on its bark, I hauled myself high enough to look over the wall.

And...nothing.

The G-wagons were gone.

No men in sight.

It was as if the selection process and wellness lie were all made up in my head.

“Please get down from the tree and join the others in the ballroom.”

I flinched in shock, looking around. “Who—?”

A drone dropped to eye level, repeating its message from whoever watched me on the other end of the camera. “Please join the others. That is not a request.”

My pounding head turned my vision hazy again. Clinging to the trunk with one hand, I rubbed my eyes with the other.

“Please join the others.”

I ignored it, wishing I was normal. Wishing I could handle panic and worry or be one of those lucky people who found they became superhuman the minute they suffered a little bit of anxiety.

Instead, I clenched my teeth against the very real possibility of throwing up.

“You leave me with no choice.” The drone made a high-pitched noise before a blast of electricity drilled through me.

It seized my muscles.

It blazed my bones.

Every ligament locked and I tumbled headfirst to the grass below.

I landed hard, winded and gasping, my limbs thrashing like a broken puppet.

As quickly as the drone shocked me, it stopped. Hovering over me, no doubt taking celebratory photos of me flat on my back, it announced, “You have two minutes to join the others, or you will be shocked again.”

I gave up.

I went back.

And the damn thing trailed me the entire journey.

* * * * *

Following the murmur of feminine voices, I made myself as small as possible and tiptoed through the palace. I didn’t even know if that word was correct for a home in the meadows of Britain, but it certainly helped encompass the grandeur.

Vaulted ceilings soared like the nave of a cathedral, yet instead of saints in stained glass, the arched windows were patterned with flowering lotuses and flying phoenixes. Light poured through them in fractured rainbows, painting the black stone floors with shifting mosaics.

Silk scrolls of cranes and misty mountains hung between marble busts of long-dead kings. European portraits of whiskered men glowered at me, while huge banners of Chinese calligraphy hung beside them.

It seemed as if two civilisations had collided and combined, blending East and West with paper lanterns dangling from wrought-iron chandeliers, and potted bamboo growing against baroque wallpapered walls.

By the time I reached the threshold of the ballroom, my head spun with too much beauty.

The group of women huddled together in the heart of the cavernous room, the lights turned down to mimic a false gloaming—thanks to the black velvet draping most of the huge windows. The carved panels on the walls glittered with mother-of-pearl and tarnished mirrors, reflecting the flicker of low-burning lamps and thirty pairs of worried eyes.

Coming to a stop, I glanced around, peering into the shadows for signs of the panther.

I’d begun to think I’d lost my sanity on the bus here and everything that’d happened since was a strange kind of dream.

“What’s everyone doing?” I whispered to the girl standing close by. “Why are they waiting here?”

She glanced at me, her features fighting courage and panic. “We’re waiting for him to grace us with his presence, of course.”

“Lucien Ashfall?” I watched her carefully. Was she one of the women who’d come here, knowing the free spa weekend was a lie, or was she like me and cursing herself for being so dumb?

“Yes.” She pursed her lips, glancing at the rest of the women. “He’s in here somewhere...hunting us.” Glancing at the pinprick on her fingertip, from where they’d drawn her blood, she frowned. “My trainer never mentioned admittance would be based on DNA.” Her eyes met mine. “Why do you think they—”

“It’s to see if your body is compatible with his, you idiot,” a girl beside her replied. “And that you’re not on birth control.”

“Eww.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t need to be compatible with him. I have no intention of sleeping with him. I merely want to—”

“Kill him?” Another girl, who I thought was called Serena, muttered under her breath. “Your side won’t win. They say he’s unkillable. Might as well join our side instead.”

Wait...what?

There are sides now?

“Yes, well, he’s still human, isn’t he?” the brown-haired girl who’d spoken first said quietly. “And he’s only one man. There’s at least sixteen of us who got in who want him dead.”

“You’re so short-sighted.” Serena huffed, fluffing out her blonde hair. “It’s better to seduce him and get pregnant. Then you’ll carry his bloodline and want for nothing.”

“If you think they’d worship you for having his bastard you’re more delusional than us.”

I looked to the front of the ballroom, trying to hear past the whispers of the women as they divided themselves into seducers and assassins. Tension gathered the longer time ticked, pulling tight as corset strings, making it hard to breathe.

The lamps scattered around the ballroom suddenly dimmed as if something sucked the meagre light from the room. Shadows lengthened across the jade-inlaid floor as the midnight-pelted panther stalked past.

The crowd cracked down the middle, women reeling back and gasping as the giant predator nonchalantly prowled to the dais at the top of the room. Its huge paws padded up the three stone steps before it turned around, glowered at all of us, and threw itself down in a lazy sprawl.

No one moved or spoke.

My eyes danced around the space, trying to see—

There.

A tall figure peeled free from the gloom on the left, moving like pure shadow.

A ripple of awareness flickered through the women as a man slowly came into view, striding slowly toward the platform where a huge throne waited. The panther lay at the foot of it, its glowing eyes locked on the man as he stepped up the stairs and joined the giant cat.

Bare feet—pale and silent, flashed beneath black trousers that moved like water. A matching black shirt draped his lean, tall shape like liquid night, while a long black overcoat, undone and clinging to his shoulders, trailed behind him, sweeping the floor with darkness.

I couldn’t catch my breath as I drank him in.

He didn’t hurry to take his place on the throne. Didn’t speak to the women all congregating at the bottom of the dais. He merely slowed to a stop, turned to face us, and arched his chin.

The very air in the ballroom seemed to retreat, increasing the erratic pulse of my heart.

My vision turned hazy as my headache made me groan with pain.

I couldn’t handle much more of this. More stress and panic and confusion.

I’d never seen someone who could suffocate a room with his very arrival. Never seen someone as beautiful as him—but just like beauty could make people commit awful mistakes, his beauty promised cold-blooded murder.

Pale, flawless skin, dark eyes narrowed with arrogance, and black glossy hair that matched the panther currently purring loudly at his bare feet. Just like his house blended East and West, he straddled the two worlds perfectly. His face savagely handsome with sharp cheekbones, perfect lips, and aristocratic eyebrows that wouldn’t look out of place in old dynasties.

His eyes swept the crowd.

Even my thoughts were choked to silence.

My heart stopped completely as he smirked. A tight, violent little smile that ached with scorn and hate and disdain.

The panther noticed its master’s tension, hauling itself back up and stretching out its sinuous spine. Its claws scratched the marble floor as the man slowly descended the steps again, this time into the midst of the potential killers and concubines, heading right for me.

Chapter Eight

THE WOMEN SCURRIED OUT OF THE way, bowing their heads and acting perfectly meek. He smiled again, shaking his head as if he knew exactly why most of them were here and wouldn’t fall for any of it.

Stopping in the middle of the crowd, he slowly turned on bare feet, eyeing each of us. Up close, his skin seemed even more perfect. His gaze even more shrewd. His thick, black hair long enough to touch his collar, the ends flicking upward with a hint of a rebellious curl.

My heart pounded against my ribs, fast and fierce.

I swayed a little as my vision greyed again. It took all my strength to remain standing as he suddenly turned to face a girl I hadn’t spoken to and smirked that violent little smile. “You.” He cocked his head, his voice as effortless and seductive as the panther’s purr. “Why are you here?”

The girl swallowed hard, her white freckled skin going bright red. Her hands wrung together, her chest heaving beneath the pretty floral dress she’d chosen to wear into this den.

“Me?” She forced a giggle. “I’m here to serve you, Mr. Ashfall. To—”

She never got to finish as his hands lashed out, wrapped around her throat, and snapped her neck.

She dropped to the ground like a pile of discarded bones.

The panther sniffed her corpse, its whiskers bristling.

Screams rang, piercingly loud in the echoey ballroom.

Chaos broke out as the women who’d been brought here under false advertising, bolted toward the double doors and vanished into the palace. The women who’d been groomed to come here and had a mission didn’t follow. Fighting against instinct to flee, they elegantly dropped to their knees, surrendering to his murderous whims.

The screaming stopped as one by one, the girls balled their hands on their thighs and huddled like garden statues.

And me?

My body completely forsook me.

I couldn’t run like I wanted.

I couldn’t scream like I needed.

I barely stayed conscious enough to sink to the floor, landing heavily on my left hip, my bare legs sticking to the cold marble below.

My vision sputtered in and out as my headache made the room flex.

My fingers fumbled for my raindrop pendant, clutching it tight as Lucien Ashfall set his sights on his next victim and toed her with his bare foot. “You.” He smiled tightly, cruelly. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here...” The stunning blonde, dressed in a navy maxi-dress, trembled. The clack of her teeth echoed as she glanced at the dead woman and tears glossed her eyes. “I...I’m here—” She swallowed hard.

Lucien smiled.

Ducking to his haunches in front of her, he whispered softly, seductively, “Only the truth will save you.”

She nodded, stuttering with nervousness. “I-I work for Brimstone Industries. Y-Your company. I...I’ve seen pictures of you and...and I’ve always imagined meeting you.”

“Is that so?” He smiled wider, his fingers tracing the side of her face and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Why?”

“Why?” She gulped. “Because...because you’re so handsome and...”

“You thought you could be the first to entice me into your bed?”

Wait...the first?

I rubbed my temples, trying to claw through the stress. Did that mean he was a virgin? The deeper into this world I fell, the worse my questions became.

Why was he so black-hearted that he could dispatch a stranger with his bare hands?

Why did he have a panther as a pet and wore all black as if he was a ruling underworld emperor?

Why had no one come to arrest him for killing someone?

“No, I mean...” The girl struggled for something, someone, to help her. No one made eye contact with her. No one dared. Including me.

“What do you mean then?” Lucien asked quietly. “Perhaps you’re not here to sleep with me but to end me instead?”

“No. I would never. I—”

A battle-cry cut her off as another woman launched to her feet, yanked a dagger from a sheath beneath her skirt, and flung herself at him.

The blade twinkled in the lowlights.

Lucien rose effortlessly to his feet and sidestepped, just as she slashed her knife through the air where he’d been.

Smirking, he backed up a little. “Impatient to begin I see.”

“I’ll fucking gut you, you psychotic asshole!” She charged at him, her arm sweeping upward to plunge into his chest.

And he didn’t move.

He stood his ground. He held her eyes and I swear his chest puffed up as if begging the dagger to sink deep—

But the panther pounced on her, knocking her sideways and pinning her flat on her back.

She screeched as she tried to stab the beast, but was too late.

Its giant jaws latched around her throat and with a savage shake, it ended her with a wet crunch and a sickening gurgle.

The women who’d chosen to stay all flattened themselves over their knees, no longer submitting but committing full self-flagellation by bowing for their lives.

Nausea drenched me in ice-cold sweat.

I glanced behind me to the exit.

I begged my legs to stand and run.

If only I wasn’t so pathetic.

If only I’d fled with the other women who’d come here by accident.

Then I wouldn’t have to see. Wouldn’t have to be at this monster’s mercy.

Get up, Rook. Go. Before it’s too late!

Groaning, I planted my hands on the marble and tried to push up. My wobbly elbows gave out, and my headache switched from throbbing to splintering, driving a stake through my brain and making everything wretched and wrong.

By staying you’re one of them!

He’ll think you’re here to bed him or butcher him.

RUN!

I tried again, only...black-framed bare feet appeared in my hazy vision.

I froze as Lucien clucked his tongue, towering over me. “You’re rather bold, aren’t you? Not even bothering to bow like the rest of them.”

He didn’t seem to care a pool of blood seeped from the girl his pet had killed. Didn’t seem to notice the countless other women all cowering around me.

We had numbers on our side.

Even with his panther slaughtering us, if the women who’d come to kill him banded together, they could win.

I swallowed hard as he ducked to his haunches, his eyes narrowing on mine. “Well? Nothing to say for yourself?”

Up close, his eyes were absolutely devastating. Endless and hollow, dark and relentless.

In his stare, I saw vengeance and wrath and bone-deep hatred.

“I...” I licked my lips, moaning a little as the pain became too much. I wanted to pass out. At least if I was already unconscious, I wouldn’t feel him kill me.

“You...?” He chuckled under his breath, mocking and mean. “You what? Why are you here?” Curling his fingers, he ran his knuckles ever so gently along my jaw. “I hope you have a better reply than the others because I’m getting bored.”

I shuddered as his touch sent the same stinging pain that the drone did with its electrical shock. His hot fingers radiated through me, searing my heart with flames.

“I’m...I thought this was a spa weekend.” I hated how weak my voice was, how every word dripped with a plea not to hurt me. “I-I don’t know who you are. I—”

“Liar.” His lips pulled back in a snarl as his hand latched around my throat. “I told you only the truth would save you.”

“That is the truth!” I clawed at his wrist, trying to get him off me.

The cuffs of his loose black shirt fell down his forearm, revealing a wide silver cuff inscribed with emblems I couldn’t read.

He winced as I tugged it, then snarled as he squeezed me tighter.

My vision popped with white stars—not from stress this time but asphyxiation.

He had to be mentally insane.

He’d just killed two people, stood in a puddle of clotting blood, and the only thing etched into his features was barely controlled rage.

No empathy, no sympathy, merely venomous resentment as he forced me to join his victims. His hand shook with malice. My eyelids fluttered—

My life didn’t flash before me, but despair did.

I’d been so incredibly lucky to be born into this life, yet I hadn’t been able to do anything worthwhile with the wealth or power I’d been given. Instead, I’d turned out to be the worst sort of person whose only claim to fame was running away just to survive.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I willed him to get it over with.

He was doing me a favour.

Putting me out of my misery.

My fingers turned loose around his wrist, clinging with the last bit of strength I had to that strange cuff trapped tight around him.

He sucked in a breath as I sagged forward, crashing against him as his fingers continued to cut off my air.

My headache became a thousand times worse, determined to come with me into death.

I’d often consoled myself from the horror of dying that at least in a grave, pain couldn’t find you. On the day of my parents’ funeral, I’d repeated that over and over again, praying they were in a better place, together, happy, and free from the agony at the end.

But now...now I wasn’t so sure.

What if I always felt this pain?

What if I was condemned to eternal misery, reliving the moment of him squeezing the last droplet of life out of me?

I lost control of my body and tumbled completely against him.

His fingers unlocked around my throat as I knocked him off balance, sending him crashing into the congealing blood on the floor.

Even without him actively strangling me, I was too far gone to get off him. My chest crashed against his, my forehead landed somewhere on his shoulder, and our legs tangled.

We ended up in a pile on the ballroom floor.

And for the longest moment, as I hovered between living and death, he trembled beneath me.

He groaned low and deep, the noise vibrating beneath my ear where I lay on him. The sound didn’t sound pissed off or angry but tortured. Tormented.

Shoving me off him, the growls of his panther circled around me, either holding back the other women who wanted to kill him or preparing to finish me off.

He kicked me away from him, and I had just enough strength left to watch as he shot to his feet, clutched his heart with white-knuckled fingers, and twisted the black shirt as if he could tear the organ out of him.

“Mr. Ashfall?” An eager, stupidly brave woman raised her head. “If you’re unwell, I can—”

“Leave,” he snarled, panting hard as he twisted his shirt into a knot, pulling up the hem and revealing a flat, muscular stomach. His gasps were drenched in agony.

“But if you’re hurting, I—”

“LEAVE!” he roared. “All of you. SCRAM!”

The boom of his voice ricocheted off the high eaves and bounced off the mother-of-pearl walls. The pitter-patter of racing feminine feet told me more than my failing eyesight could that they’d obeyed.

And as the shadows finally came for me and as silence blanketed my stress, Lucien Ashfall looked down at me splayed on the floor.

His eyes narrowed as he studied me, then, with a sweep of his black coat, he left me dying all alone in his ballroom.